In The Garden of My Mind...

So while spot-painting and cleaning downstairs, I was listening to a podcast of a recent "This American Life" and it was about people trying to find, finding, or choosing not to find their birth families.  This was already on my mind due to a recent conversation with a friend about her husband finding his birth family and some issues [hurt feelings] that come up with his adopted family.

One of the stories really struck me, as the woman was describing finding her birth mother in Korea and answering why she went on such an arduous journey to find her mother, she said, "Because I was tired of the years of therapy to 'get over' this feeling of being thrown away.  I wanted to hear from my mother's mouth the circumstances surrounding my birth, my surrender, my adoption, everything.  I had fought this feeling of being rejected my whole life and it had affected every relationship, everything in my life!" 

Bingo.

Exactly what I've been thinking and feeling.  Little do many people know, but I've been in therapy for three years now.  I've never told anyone, not even my family and closest friends, and this has been the main theme running through most of my sessions.  Rejection.  Being cast aside.  Being overlooked. Being never good enough.  This is still happening in my life, through unhealthy friendships, unhealthy relationships, and even the double whammy of being rejected by first birth parents and then adopted parents.

I was adopted at the age of six after several years in foster care.  I don't remember my birth mother, but my social worker told us "it wasn't because we weren't loved but rather that she was unable to care for us"....whatever that obscure nonsense means.  Was she mentally handicapped? Was she too young?  Was she a drug or alcohol abuser?  Was she too poor?  A bit more specifics would be great.  And, because South Carolina has closed adoptions and she has yet to register with the Adoption Registry, I may never meet her and get those questions answered.  So most days, I have to tuck those musings away and forge on.

I was adopted by a minister and his wife, a school teacher, who were (and are) very conservative and very strict. As a mother, I now value their strictness and I 'get it'.  They raised us the best way they knew how, just like every parent does. They had high expectations of us and expected us to perform accordingly.  I won't go into the details of our post-adolescent relationship, but like many young adults and parents, it was rocky.  The difference is, ours has never healed.  My parents don't call, don't write, don't email, don't text, don't Facebook-message; the only thing they do is mail packages of gifts to the kids on holidays.  "Why don't you just call them, then?" you may ask...because I have.

For years, I was the one who called, who maintained contact, and then what began as a very tough time in my personal life, in which I was so focused on caring for myself and the kids, turned into a period of silence where I realized that I hadn't called them in months and they had never bothered to call me.  Huh.  So I just didn't call...and here we are, over two years later.  We still receive packages on holidays, but no personal communication at all. It's like being given up for adoption all over again, except with the sting of being an adult and being acutely aware of exactly what's going on.  Rejection.  Rejection of my lifestyle, my values, my decisions, my life.....which, in a lot of ways, is even more painful than the rejection by my birth mother.  I was merely a child then and can be placated significantly by the thought that I was not at fault for her rejection, but in this case, I am an adult and my parents' rejection of me is a direct result of who I am.

I struggle daily with feelings of inadequacy, failure, and low self-worth. I do not fit the mold of the typical, Southern Christian girl in pearls and boutique clothes.  I don't care much for name-brand clothes, my home is frequently messier than it "should be" (usually because we're out working for others instead of vacuuming my baseboards), and I don't typically conform to what's considered "normal". And I'm OK with that.  But it doesn't hurt any less that I have been repeatedly rejected for simply being who I am.  A part of me thinks maybe I should just give up and play the part, but I can't do it.  I can't be who I am not, I can't pretend to be something I'm not, and dammit, my family of all people should accept that.  They should accept that I've made mistakes, I've made decisions they'll never agree with, and that it's my life to live, not theirs...and not theirs to judge.  I am not ashamed of my life- I've gone through a great deal and come out a strong, independent woman who is using her skills to help others and I am proud of that.

Looking for my birth mother's answers to these issues is not my focus.  She gave birth to me and, for whatever reason, couldn't care for me.  I get that and I can easily move past that.  But I would appreciate some answers from the people who adopted me, raised me, and then have held me at arms' length and refused a real relationship.

Just my musings....thanks to NPR, another busy day in the garden of my mind....

Day Thirty-One...Thank You

OK, ladies and gents....this will be the last day I'm certain to be able to post and update, and it will be the last day I'll be sharing on Facebook (unless I blog about something else or something astronomical happens in my life), so if you want to keep checking in on me, make sure to bookmark it or something.  The cable is set to be turned off at some point this week, so I'll be without internet for a while (yikes, right?!).

Thank you all for reading and sending me emails, texts, and private messages over the past month.  In thirty-one days, my world has been turned on its head and I'm set to forge a new path for myself and my children.  Without many of you, I wouldn't have the strength to keep going, much less endeavor to begin a whole new chapter.  I even appreciate those of you who have mysteriously kept my page-views hovering around 50 per day as silent readers, because for some reason, it felt healing that people were reading and continued reading and so must be getting some benefit from sharing my story.

I've come very close to saving/raising the funds needed to complete the move and am only $300 short.  There's a link at the bottom of this entry if you're interested in helping me financially....your help would be immensely appreciated by all of us.  I'm also selling some things on craigslist, so I'll include the links to those items, as well.

In summary:
"Sometimes the lights all shinin on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been...
Truckin, Im a goin home. whoa whoa baby, back where I belong,
Back home, sit down and patch my bones, and get back truckin on.
Hey now get back truckin home."

To donate: https://rally.org/helpmemovebacktosanity

Items still for sale: http://norfolk.craigslist.org/fuo/3145644116.html
       http://norfolk.craigslist.org/ele/3145632011.html

As always, I leave you in Peace, Love, and Pride,
~m

Day Thirty...Where It All Began...

OK, so maybe describing Greenie's Bar as "where it all began" is maybe slightly inaccurate, but I find something nostalgic in ending my time in Hampton Roads in the bar in which I spent much of my time in my first days in Hampton Roads.

Casey is my oldest friend still in the area....we met in the Navy when I was serving in Ship's Laundry (yeah, you read that right...we bonded over detergent and starch), so when he asked if I wanted to have a drink before I left, of course I agreed!

My time here has been varied....I was assigned here for the duration of my Navy enlistment, and after that I took a total departure and have been working in the nonprofit sector here ever since.  I've been so caught up in the nonprofit world here lately that I've completely lost touch with my "roots"...the reason I came here.  Taking one step inside Greenie's, however, brought all that rushing back.

I fondly remember a fun time when our fellow shipmates were our absolute best friends and we were tighter than family. We laughed over cheap beers at Greenie's and worked hard side by side on our ship.  Casey is the only remaining link I have to that time of fond memories (everyone else has moved away or was stationed elsewhere), and I treasure his friendship and will definitely miss having him so close by.  I consider him one of my best friends, and I look forward to the next chapter of our friendship.

Today I spent over four hours painting the dining room chairs and table only to discover I have the wrong kind of varnish, so once again, part of my task list is pushed to tomorrow.  Unlike today, I have no plans and will be catching up on some of this list and hope to knock out a lot of work.  For now, I'm hitting the hay after a long day and getting excited for my new chapter in SC.

Day Twenty-Nine...Sweat Shop...

 The weather man said it was supposed to cool down today.  The weather man is a liar.

I had watched the weather reports diligently to try and find a cooler day to knock out the rest of the sofa reupholstering job...and I was just running out of time, so I had to do it.  I did finish the cushions on both halves and the bronze tacks on one half, and I was literally pouring sweat the entire time.  In fact, when I had to run to the store, I showered with completely cold water, washed my hair, and my hair never dried the rest of the day.  Pretty gross huh?  Uuuuugh.

However, I do have a new-found respect for people who do this type of thing as a vocation.  It's very hard, very frustrating, and very time-consuming...to me, the pay-off is that I'm saving approximately $720 by doing it myself (although it's obviously not professional quality, but it'll do) rather than having it reupholstered in a shop.  Without further ado, my work thus far:


 The cushions are a bit lumpy in front...they'll either flatten out with a little use or I'll get a great throw :)  You have to understand that I was working with a cushion that had been severely chewed up by an anxious pup.

















Hammering in one bronze tack at a time is mind-numbing work.


So, even after the best of planning and listing and preparing, I'm feeling a bit of panic set in.  I have nine days left, and now because the sofa took much longer than anticipated (with breaks for dizziness and hydrating due to the ridonkulous heat), many of my tasks on the list from today have been pushed to tomorrow....so now I have double the work tomorrow.  Definitely getting nervous about getting it all done in time.

On top of the task list that seems to be growing rather than shrinking, I'm also getting nervous about the funds....I've posted quite a bit of stuff on craigslist and almost none of it is moving.  I'm going to be posting refresher ads, but it's getting down to the wire.  Trying to keep a positive outlook that it will come through in time...I've gotten so close to raising/saving all the money...I do have my rent for August, but I don't yet have the prorated rent for July and gas/food money for those few days until the first. Kiiinda sweating bullets.

Alright, I'm exhausted and frustrated, so I'm hitting the sack early and hoping to get an early start and barrel through everything and at least get caught up on the list (if not ahead....wishful thinking...).  'Nite.

Day Twenty-Eight...Oven Cleaner & Breakin' Bottles...

Today was kitchen day on the checklist.  For the first time ever, I found myself attempting to make excuses to myself in my head to get out of doing today's list.  Ugh.  Scrubbing oven, cleaning out all cabinets, scrubbing those baseboards under the cabinets (toe-kicks, actually)...all that fun, greasy, grimy stuff. 

Let me just start by saying two things about oven cleaner: (a) it burns the skin.  It's the only cleaner you should actually wear gloves to use. (b) it. is. amazing.  Spray it, let it sit while you clean out a couple of cabinets, come back with a sponge of warm water and the stuff comes right off.  Against the advice on the can, I sprayed it on the range as well, right around the [gas] burners where I have tried every "safe" non-chemical solution I've heard of (vinegar & baking soda, hydrogen peroxide & borax, etc) to get off that stuck-on grease, and the oven cleaner worked like a charm.  The entire oven and range look practically brand new.  Very cool.

While cleaning the cabinets out, I discovered a few things about myself.  For instance, it will be a cool day when I have an entire set of matching dishes and glasses.  I also apparently love rice, as I had four separate containers of different varieties of brown and wild rices.  And, finally, I must have bought several spices for only one recipe and that recipe didn't work out so well because I have oodles of random spices I never use.

So after the kitchen was mostly done, my sweet friend Bryoney came over under the pretense of painting the dining room chairs.  We got out a bottle of Moscato that the neighbor had given us, and my wine key broke!  Whaaat?!  Ugh.  So, somewhere in the process of trying to remove a half-corkscrew with a pair of pliers, the neck of the bottle just broke right in half, vertically, making for kind of a cool pour spout...hey, at least we got it opened.  Gotta focus on the positive.  So what was supposed to be a painting project turned into sitting on the back porch with a friend talking and listening to the kids' version of life, which is pretty rad.  I can paint the chairs tomorrow- it was much more fun talking to Bry.

Tomorrow, another massive to-do list....I'm determined to leave the house as clean as I found it.  My mom raised me to leave a space at least as good as you found it, if not better.  My mother would literally clean a hotel room before the maid arrived when we checked out.....she may be the only person who made a hotel bed...as a guest.  But the whole idea holds a lot of water with me: it's a matter of respect.  When the kids and I eat out, I clean the table off, pile all the plates, gather all the silverware, collect all the trash, and brush off the seats.  When I stay in a hotel, I gather all the dirty towels and place them on the bathroom counter (so the maid doesn't have to bend over so much), I gather all the trash and make sure it's in the trash can, and I make sure we don't leave a huge mess.  I know it's part of the charge of the room to be afforded the ability to be a slob, but another human being has to come behind you and clean whatever mess you make.  Why not make that person's day a little better by surprising them with a neat room to clean and not a huge mess?

Same goes for this house...I want to leave it spotless and so I shall.  We're getting there; I just gotta buckle down for the next nine days and get it done...easier said than done.

Day Twenty-Seven...Cash Flow Issues

So today I listed some stuff I need to sell (haven't gotten one bite yet, but here's hoping), and here's why I need to sell them: 
(a) I legitimately need the space. My new abode is smaller, thus eliminating the need for the large coffee table and random tool-type stuff that I don't have anywhere to store.
(b) I'm an idiot and did not stop my bill pay this month.  I had already squared up with the cable, gas, & satellite companies, but I forgot to go onto my bank's site and stop the bill-pay.  Because I AM still using these services and the service is still on, these companies will not return the payment until after the last bill is out the door....which will be mid-August by their estimation......which is long after I need those funds. Ugh.

Sooooo, once again, the money crunch is on.  So, to take my mind off such things, as I was driving home today I thought I'd make a list of the coolest things about Ocean View:

1. Apparently there's some unwritten rule about men wearing shirts in the summer.  I must see at least a couple dozen sets of man nipples per day, and that's when I don't do much other than ride my bike around our neck of the woods.  When I actually venture down to the store that count can be much higher.  And these men all have big round deeply tanned bellies but little scrawny legs...curious.  Must be the margarita body.

2. No matter how crappy your day is, Mother Nature comes down with a fierceness on our beaches and will produce the most gorgeous, awe-inspiring sunsets time and again.

3. The people here are always in a Buffet state of mind.  Not only are the men always topless if it's above 78 degrees, everyone is friendly and courteous, yet respects your space (as in, your stake on the sand when swimming or fishing).  But everyone minds their business and doesn't look at you weird if you, oh say, walk out to your waist while wearing a sundress and just stand and watch the sunset with your skirt flared out around you and rippling on the waves.  And no one looks twice at you walking home dripping wet, fully dressed.  C'est la vie!

4. The art of satellite radio and how OV-ites have mastered it.  My friend Tony, an OV legend, can pick a station that will serve any function, any gathering, any day or evening or night on the beach with beers or the kids....it's like magic.  The soundtrack of  Ocean View is just spot on, all the time.

5. Bikes and dogs.  I can't step foot outside (well, maybe during the heat of the day, but then I'm not outside anyway) when there aren't loads of people walking their dogs and loads of people biking.  Biking with their kids, with their partner, biking in groups like Bike Norfolk....I love seeing a community that takes to the streets on a very regular basis, and OV definitely does that.

6. The way even the cashiers at the 7-11 remember your name, your kids' names, the kids' favorite flavor of Slurpee, and how you like your coffee...and that they will stop and say hi if they see you out around town.  That's definitely cool.

7. That the land our houses are built on was dragged up during a massive hurricane.  It's very, very awe-inspiring (and kind of scary during hurricane season...the phrase always comes to mind, "The Lord giveth and He taketh away."  He could rip Willoughby Spit right back out in the deep with Davey Jones if He wanted!).  Gives a little extra thrill to a summer thunderstorm! ;)

8. People building two or three houses on a lot all staggered like so they all get a glimpse of the water view.  Talk about sharing is caring.

9. There's an older black gentleman that walks his dog every morning and evening.  He looks up and waves at every car going by.....and from what I've seen, we all wave back (I know I do).  Yet when you ask anyone who he is, no one knows.  I like to think he's a friendly beach spirit that comes 'round every day to remind us to have some humanity, look at people, wave, and be nice!

10. Larry the Lifeguard.  Just.....seriously.  First of all, Larry's top half was stolen last year (who steals a giant lifeguard mannequin from the roof of a surf shop, but only from the waist up??), and the local email lists and Facebook groups were abuzz with talk of Larry's disappearance.  He was recovered (or did someone make another???  We'll never truly know..) and resumes his position standing guard over the tenuous block between 12th and 13th Bay.  What I found highly amusing is that normally the people on these listservs and groups do nothing but gripe and complain...about people putting out bulk trash too early, the aircraft noise, so-and-so's attitude at the last fish fry....but they can bond over a lifeguard mannequin?  Life is too funny sometimes.

11. See above...the aircraft noise.  On my end of the Spit, we are located directly across from the Navy base, and the helos practice right over our homes.  To me, it sounds like home, seeing as how I was on an aircraft carrier in the Navy and fell asleep to helos landing literally just a few feet above my head in my rack.  It also sounds like men hard at work practicing the skills that could very well save us one day.  It sounds like commerce, bringing jobs into our area. Yes, it does mean the horrific inconvenience of having to briefly pause for about ten seconds during a phone conversation once in a while, but I'm OK with that.

12.  The view.  Everywhere, from most windows in my house, I get an amazing view. Sometimes I spend time folding laundry in front of the window upstairs, just watching the sun sparkle on the water.  I was never a "beach person" before I moved here, but the beauty and tidal rhythms sucked me right in.  There are places around here that are just breathtakingly beautiful, so much I can't stand it.  Coming down the end of the trail off 12th Bay and seeing the water open up before you.  Hiking up the highest dune in OV right across from Uncle Tony's place, pushing through underbrush and digging your toes into the steep sand hill and suddenly, the world turns electric and you're staring down the face of one of the most gorgeous views in this metro area, much less in OV....I always have to close my eyes for a minute because it's such a rush to the senses.

Definitely going to miss all of this. I don't know if I'll ever be able to stay at some sterile "ocean resort" again....I'd much rather camp out with buddies on the Bay and get salty that way. :)

OK, going to hit the hay and dream of ...you know, money, landing a job...the usual.

Day Twenty-Six...Utilities, Job Search, and Beggars...

OK.....so stoked to have the condo that I've already scheduled all the utilities to be turned on in my name...sweet!  Trying to consider whether the price of internet is worth it.  I do so love my internet, but their company wants $19.99 for the first six months and then it takes a steep hike to $50 a month, and that's for the cheapest connection.  I don't like being locked in a contract not knowing my work situation in six months and then being forced to up my cable bill by 250%.  Anyhoo..first world problems, right?

Speaking of problems, I finally received a check I've been waiting for (an old investment account that I've had to clean out for this move), and when I went to deposit it in the ATM, it was after hours so I had to deposit at the ATM outside.  While doing so, a woman pulled up and asked me to pay for her and her children to eat at the all-you-can-eat buffet two doors down (which, incidentally, costs $7.99 a person..or it did the last time I could afford to eat there).  I was shocked into silence for a minute...and then said, "What?!"  She repeated herself, obviously irritated, and added, "We're going through a rough time right now...." and kind of trailed off.  She was driving a car that was maaaybe three years old, very nice, clean and almost empty (I say this because it wasn't full of suitcases, bags, blankets, and/or pillows that would indicate a family living in their vehicle), she was wearing nice clothes and jewelry, and her kids were all plump and dressed VERY nicely.  I explained to her that I am also going through a very tough time and I really needed these funds from the check I was depositing, and while I was explaining, she kind of leaned back in her seat, lowered her eyelids, and began to glare at me.  I then said (with an attitude, I know) what I would do is go to a grocery store because it would be vastly cheaper than eating at a restaurant and that I couldn't even afford to eat out right now, at which point she interrupted me, saying, "Nah, nah, that's alright....if you didn't want to f*&ing help me, that's all you had to say."  I was flabbergasted!  I got my receipt and walked back to my car in kind of a daze, too surprised to be mad (yet).  While I was pulling out, I heard her yelling to the car pulling in beside me to access the same ATM, so I guess she's just going to camp out by the ATM and ask every person withdrawing money (which, yeah....I wasn't even withdrawing, I was depositing...I didn't even have cash in hand!).

This incident just followed a lot of discussions about food stamps, people being "entitled", etc.  I've never been on public assistance and hope to never be...it would be very difficult for me to do.  I've set a goal for myself of applying for at least five jobs a day, and with the lengthy online applications most employers have now, I spend between 25-50 minutes on each application online.  So I'm spending at least five hours a day job searching, between searching, looking up companies, and filling out the applications, and I still haven't gotten one bite.  So, over a week ago, I figured I would follow up with phone calls and any other mode of communication I could find on their website...email, etc.  So when I call, I get a standard, "We've received your information and we'll be contacting you if we need more information," and when I email, I get nothing.  Ugh.  I'm thinking I will have more luck after the move when I can go beat the streets and apply in person.  Since it's been confirmed that I am most likely going to be a Fellow in the fellowship program for the veteran's program, I only need a job until late October when my fellowship begins, and if I can't land a job by the second week of August, I will have to get on some sort of public assistance. 

Sooo, the whole "theoretical" discussion of public assistance and entitlement takes a very personal turn when you're facing that potential situation. 

Anyway, that's all TBD at this time, so I'm going with the plan of getting a job that will carry me through October and then having a blast at this fellowship for six months and focusing on landing a full-time job out of that!  Gotta think positive, gotta be positive!

Alright...getting ready for bed with the kiddos, who are making me laugh and keeping my days full of sunshine and giggles!  Twelve days and counting.......!!

Day Twenty-Five: Cleaning, Chicken, and Migraine

I'm laying in between the kids right now: Callie's asleep on my left and John on my right.  Today was an interesting day because, the more things we pack up, the less things there are for them to play with....meaning I have two very smart, very active, very bored children.  And that stinks....for all of us. 

I've had ongoing tension headaches for the past week or so, and I felt a whopper coming on today.  I cleaned out the living room, packing up what's left of the knick-knacks and carefully boxing up my prized mid-century Indian lamp.  The whole time, I felt that humming and feeling like a rubber band being stretched more and more in my head.  When I was beating out chicken breasts for dinner, it broke with a resounding thump into my temples.  I immediately went upstairs and took three OTC migraine pills, finished dinner, and tried to relax it away in a hot bath (gonna miss that whirlpool tub!) but to no avail.  Unfortunately, the combination of the caffeine in the pills and the caffeine in the instant coffee I made earlier is making it almost impossible to fall asleep....what a genius idea: "Hey, let's put caffeine in a pain-killing product so they can be fully alert for the pain!"

So all in all, a good day, I accomplished quite a bit, and now I'm really, really ready to be able to fall asleep.  I haven't pulled out the white noise app on my phone in a while, but I think that might do the ticket tonight...here's hoping!

Day Twenty-Four..He Leaves...For Good.

Today has been a roller coaster.  Anger, snappy comments, curt tones, uncomfortable silences...just a real blast.  But once he double-checked his car, loaded up the dogs, and walked down the front walk for the last time, I almost cried.

Bear with me here....it definitely was no "fond romance" type of tears.  It was a real concern for him and his journey.  He doesn't have much of a family for true emotional support, not to mention encouragement and growth.  Once again I was slammed with feelings of guilt for not being his entire support system, no matter how damaging that is to me and the kids.  I felt like I've let him down, just like his mother when he was a kid, and failed him.

After a few minutes of walking and clearing my head, logical thought returned.  I cannot be everything to everyone.  I can't help "raise" my husband while trying to raise my children at the same time.  I, too, deserve to have a companion that is as emotionally available to me as I am to him.  The kids deserve to be in a household with stability, without all the raw emotion that flows through him unchecked, and to be free of the tension and stress.  All that aside, I do fervently hope and pray that his life will take a turn for the better and he will be able to move forward in a positive way.  He definitely has it within him- he just has to unlock it and untangle himself from the negative bonds.

After a couple of hours of packing and cleaning, my day took a definite upswing when I got the email that I got the condo!  It literally felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders as I breathed a huge sigh of relief and put that hurdle behind me. The second, and more daunting, hurdle coming up is finding a job, and quickly.  I've got the funds for the move and August rent, so I really have up until August 15 to find a job.  Breathe in....breathe out...it can be done.  Oh, and on top of finding work, I have to get the kids registered in school, which means procuring a SC physical for all three of them (since Johnny is now old enough to head to Pre-K *tears).  At least I'll have help tackling all of this!

My last chore of the day was cleaning out my desk.  I pulled out the usual: random staples, paper clips, rubber bands, pen caps, and then I opened the center drawer and right in the middle, staring at me, was Logan's wedding ring.  Well.  There's that.  I don't know if he left it right there on purpose...I doubt it because he's never been one for the dramatic or emphatic gestures, but the effect was there nonetheless.  I put it on my thumb, like I did for the duration of his first deployment when he worked in a shop where they couldn't wear rings.  Is that weird?  Maybe so.  I don't know.  I haven't even thought about taking my ring off yet...I slid it down on my finger and I have a hideous indentation and tan line, so I just put it back.  I'll take it off eventually.

So that kind of soured my mood and I just gave up the task until tomorrow.  It's still a whirlwind of emotion, one of the hardest days yet, so I'm probably going to turn in early and sleep the hurt away.

Day Twenty-three..Best Dr. Visit EVER

OK, today started off pretty decent.  Last day he's here, so that's kind of a stress-relief that's playing out right now.  Did a load of laundry.  Straightened up around the house.  Fourth day in a row I haven't felt "hungry" so I forced about half a bowl of cereal down and then remembered I had an appointment at the VA. 'Great.' I thought.  Typically that means an all-day adventure of hurry-up-and-wait.  So I begrudgingly took a shower and started the drive over...and I had  a strange thought while driving...

Blow it off. Don't go to the appointment.  Say what? I said to myself.  You don't just "blow off" appointments.  Why would you want to blow off this appointment?  So you can go and walk around by yourself....go walk on the beach, get a latte, just forget it.  [Truth be told, I was creeping me out a bit at that point.]  Since I had left the house very early in case of traffic that didn't exist, I did run to Starbucks and get a soy latte.  Wasted all of seven minutes.  OK, what now?  Where do you want to go?  Buckroe Beach is close...and then I stopped myself.  Why did my subconscious feel that I wasn't worth a medical check-up?  How dare my inner psyche withhold medical care from me?  I am a priority, too!  I don't miss the kids' checkups, why would I miss my own?

I had seriously, in the rearview of my car on a side street in Hampton, come face to face with my ridiculously crappy self esteem.  I made an unnecessarily large gesture of turning on the left signal, indicating to all who were watching or caring, that I was, indeed, going to the VA Medical Center.  And I did. And it was one of the greatest medical experiences of my life.

This is where it gets intense...you can check out now...if, you know, you're a dude, or you just don't want to know.

All women have to get PAPs, once a year, mandatory.  Well I had already skipped a year, last year (part of that "I'm not worth the time" mentality I had just battled in the car), so I would then be another year overdue if I skipped this appointment.  Truth be told, I hate PAPs.  As a molestation survivor, I absolutely detest them.  They leave me feeling dirty and gross and violated and I absolutely, positively hate them.  Plus, it always seems that I get the male doctor even when I have specifically requested otherwise (and told them why), and when I see a man coming at me with a speculum I tighten up like a clam and it ends up being very, very painful. 

Today....checked in ten minutes early, was taken back almost immediately (a real rare experience in the VA hospital).  Had an awesome nurse weigh me, look at my chart, exclaim, "Congratulations!" about my weight loss since my last visit, then had another passing nurse stop, look at my chart, say the same and high-five me.  Yeah.  That happened.  In the big, bad government-run hospital.  Waited maybe another seven, eight minutes after vitals and then met my female doctor. Yes!  Finally!  She immediately began chatting with me about my non-profit work, my upcoming move, my weight loss (which she also enthusiastically congratulated me on), and, for the first time in my whole life, I had an open conversation with a doctor about my personal well-being (in the gyno-sense).  Not that anything's going on, but it was refreshing to finally not feel oppressed, scared, or embarrassed at the GYN's office!  Thirty years old, and finally had a gyno visit I could deal with!

The exam was very quick, concise, and comfortable...again, first time ever.  She had actually taken the time to read on my chart before coming in the room that I am adopted, and so perhaps she assumed the truth/worst about most adoptees/foster care survivors and that's why she was so quick and chatty...or maybe she's just an awesome doctor.  Or maybe, just maybe, I came into that office today with a greater sense of self-worth than I have ever had and so felt that I deserved a thorough check-up and conversation.  Probably a combination of all of the above.

It's becoming so very crystal clear to me now...with eating better, taking care of myself, realizing my own value, having distance and clarity in aspects of how I've been oppressed, devalued, and taken for granted. (You scoff..."oppressed? yeah right..." Yes.  When a husband calls his wife a "slut" because she had sex before she met him, that's oppression.  When a husband refuses to pick up his own dirty clothes from the floor or wash his own dirty dishes and then tells his wife, "That's your job..you're the woman.  Men don't do that," that's oppression.  I won't go on....I hope that if you are reading my blog in the first place, you aren't the type to scoff at my word choice to describe my own experiences.)   I've also allowed these feelings to force me make poor decisions...take horrible care of myself, ignore glaring signals of danger, mentally inhibit myself into failing at certain projects and undertaking because of this inner running monologue of "you can't do this...you're not this talented...you're going to fail...you're going to look stupid....".  Well, shut up inner monologue.   This bitch is back, and back better than ever and ready to tackle it all.  There have been very few moments in my life where I have felt this sparkling clarity, this "the world is my oyster" ethereal lightness, and I am savoring it with my whole heart and my whole body and my whole mind.  If I can provide for my children a future in which they constantly feel the way I feel right now, I feel that I will be a complete and utter success as a parent.

I just ate a BLT, and now I'm going for a bike ride.  This has been a day of awesomeness, and thank you for sharing in it in this way...please comment, share, and join in my journey!

Day Twenty-Two...Weight Loss on Top of It All?!

So today I was thinking how ridiculously absurd it is for me to even be attempting weight loss right now, on top of everything else....until I weighed myself and noticed four more pounds had gone somewhere.  Well.  There's that.

To be honest, I've been so distracted/busy that I haven't really eaten terribly much anyway, and I'm not sitting around obsessing about it (most of the time...sometimes I do have crazy cravings but they go away quickly).  Food has just been the last thing on my mind lately, most of the time.  Anyway, I've had several people send me private messages or emails lately, all of them referencing my blog and why they have been inclined to comment but don't.  I encourage comments, feedback, discussion, and even dissent!  But I can see how others wouldn't feel appropriate commenting, since many of my posts are very, sometimes too much so, personal.  Yet that's the whole point!  I'm basically keeping a journal, mostly for me but also for you.

Like I said before, everyone goes through rough crap, whether it be divorce, death of a loved one, nasty friendship-breakup, job loss, move, change, everyone has to deal with it.  Most people put their head down and plow through it, with or without drink in hand, and would rather put the whole experience behind them.  I've done this for previous hard times and emerge somewhat bewildered as to how I emerged the other side unscathed and yet have burned bridges and lost people along the way.  Most times, if not all, it was due to my silence and them not truly knowing the depth of the harrowing experience through which I was trudging and mistaking my silence as anger or resentment or some other mysterious negative energy towards them. 

This time, I'm taking the glass house route (please don't throw rocks...it's tacky to complete a cliche).  Although, already with being as transparent and painfully open as I can, I've already had people throw up their hands and figuratively huff away.  So lesson one has been learned early on in the game: you simply can't, ever, not in any realm, please everyone.  OK.  Tough for a people-pleaser like me to swallow, but OK.  I'll take that in stride.  At least it's an early return on my little experiment: even with total transparency, some people really don't give a flying crap what you're going through if it means you can no longer cater to their needs.

Another interesting aspect to this journey and documenting it as a day-by-day process is the ability to go back and see with clarity what I was thinking along the way...what influenced my decisions, how I was feeling, etc.  For instance, Logan's been here the past couple of days packing the rest of his stuff and getting his things in order, and, not to go into details, it's been a bold reminder of exactly why we're separating.  So I suggest to everyone that may be considering rethinking that recent break-up...lock yourself in a house with the person for a weekend.  All the old ugly will come rushing back and you'll both be clawing at the doors ready for release!  A good reminder of what a healthy future will look like- in separate domains.  Now that I have that recorded for posterity, I shan't make that mistake again.

And now I have to get some sleep- I caved and had a chocolate cupcake and a terrific bike ride, and they gave me the sleepies.  Please do keep reading, keep checking in, and if you feel the urge to comment, do so!  I'm knowingly and willingly sharing my journey with you...feel free to chime in!

Day Twenty-One....Madagascar!!!

So today had the potential to become real crappy, real fast....I was gearing up for a bad one and, to my surprise, everything went smoothly!

On top of that, my dear, beautiful, sweet friend Lisa took me and the kids to see Madagascar Three!  It was a great movie and exactly what we needed....to get out of the house for a bit and just laugh.  Lisa seems to always know the perfect thing at the perfect time.

Other things on my mind today: how no relationship is perfect, no matter what.  I sold one of my Coach purses today for gas money (it was one I never carried...too small for all my mommy gear), and the woman had to come meet me at Farm Fresh because she "didn't want her husband to know she bought it on Craigslist".  Umm...OK.  Her plan backfired when her aunt came walking out of the grocery store when she was standing by my car with the purse in her hand and had to explain that one real quick, so ultimately, her deception lasted barely longer than its conception.  But what does that say about her relationship?  Instead of asking her husband to accompany her if he felt uncomfortable with her purchasing things on craigslist, she tried to sneak around and hide it? Why did she feel it was serious enough to lie about?  I feel like our society condones these "white lies", where the wife lies to her husband about finances or shopping and he lies to her about "meetings" at the strip club.  They feel it's no-harm/no-foul, but it's laying the groundwork for bigger and deeper deception.

Who am I to judge the craiglist purchaser?  I got my gas money, she got her Coach purse, and I'm sure she spun a good yarn to Auntie.  Case closed....just food for thought.

Heard from yet another friend today about the frustration of living in Hampton Roads...he's a single father and has no help.  He's done it his sons' entire lives- their mom bailed early in the picture (and might I add, he's awesome at it....he's a great dad to those boys).  She still gets visitation, and because they've been with their mom for three weeks, he has felt especially lonely.  Not to mention, it's only highlighted the fact that it's really only him and the boys, so when they're gone, he really has no one.  Boy, do I get it. 

Maybe because Hampton Roads is such a transient area, maybe because people here really are...crappy [which I don't want to believe]...I don't know, but I'm hearing from oodles of people now (perhaps because I'm leaving they feel safe "confiding") that they feel so alone in Hampton Roads.  There is no friend bringing pie by just because...no friend to watch the kids while you get your hair done (unless you want to pay her, in which case lots of "friends" will watch the kids for money)...no friends bringing by a bottle of wine to cheer you up during a bad break-up....the biggest show of affection is when someone is leaving!  How strange! 

I saw a quote today that said if you want people over...invite.  If you want to be called, then call.  I did!!  I told all my friends, "Hey, my door's open...swing by after work sometime!" and I meant it!  I even bought thrift-store gems like margarita glasses, martini glasses, wine glasses....some of them have never been used because no one took me up on my standing offer!  I'm packing them all up in wads of newspaper and taking them with me, because I know if my SC girls are good for one thing, it's coming over and drinking my booze!  {{I'm looking at you, Stacie, Teri, and Cember. :) }}  [Although I also know they will watch my kids in a pinch, help me move furniture when I need it, and go with me on a hike or shopping adventure.]

I know quite a few people who would fall under the category of "mover and shaker" in Hampton Roads.  They're creative thinkers, problem solvers, and go-getters.  I challenge those people to find the answer to this conundrum of what is preventing people with a fairly normal amount of crazy in their lives (we all have some, don't deny it) of forming the type of bonds we see in other areas nationwide.  Don't say it's an "urban" syndrome...I personally know people with intense bonds and deep friendships in Brooklyn, Manhattan, LA, Seattle, and those are all vastly larger metros than this.  There's something about here that's inhibiting true, rich, and deep human connection....I hope those that remain here can fix it.   That's it.  Stepping off the soapbox now.

P.S.  Sweet JESUS, thank you for the cooler weather!! It  feels amazing right now!!

Day Twenty....Hope!

OK, so the past few days have been harrowing in that uncomfortable, restless, nail-biting kind of way while you're waiting for big news.  I finally heard back about the condo, and, not to jinx myself because I'll hear for sure tomorrow, but I think I've got it!  So I'm maintaining positive thoughts to that end.

Still haven't heard back from any of the 187.5 jobs I've applied for over the past few days.  In a perfect world, I'll have that solidified before I move, as well, but we'll see.

Now I'm trying hard to hunker down and save money....easier said than done when you know you're leaving and want to go to all your favorite haunts and get "one last gelato", "one last latte", "one last chai milkshake" (OK, that one might seriously have to happen...I'll count change for that).  I need X amount to get there, and it's cutting it close any way I slice it, so if I'm declining your invitation, that's why.

I know it's only not even 7:00, but I'm already ready for bed!!  My brain is exhausted....I think with the [blessed] cooler weather this evening, it will be nice to have a cup of tea and watch a movie with the kiddos. Maybe I'll get good news after a long night's sleep!

Days Eighteen & Nineteen...Broken Heat Wave...

So a couple of days ago, I was just mentally congratulating myself on blogging every day and I must have jinxed it....fell asleep at my laptop last night.  I was just going to carry on, like someone tripping in a party and acting like no one saw it, but I was called out on it!  This is very cool because (a) it means the page statistics aren't wrong and some people are actually reading this and (b) someone missed it!  Very cool!  Like I said, this journey I'm on may not be the exact journey others are on, but everyone has gone through or is going through hard stuff, so it resonates with everyone.

Anyway, yesterday was horrific....hottest day of the year, so my measly window unit was plugging along as best it could but we still pretty much just laid there and tried not to have a heat stroke.  So almost nothing got accomplished- one load of laundry and three meals, that's it.

Today, as soon as I woke, I pulled my leg back in the blanket and then it struck me....it's cold in here!  Whoo hoo!  Sometime overnight the temps had gone down almost twenty degrees to a tolerable 80-something, so the A/C running full blast had made my bedroom deliciously chilly.  So today was serious job hunting time....I'm hoping I do get selected for that fellowship, but either way I need a job in the meantime/until I begin or if I don't get selected.  So I applied to at least a dozen jobs before I noticed a listing alleging half of those jobs were scams...*sigh.  It's hard looking for work two states away on the internet.  Finances are particularly tight right now, so looking at moving, getting a new place, getting all the utilities, etc...there's a lot of cost, so I'm stressing big time right now.

I have 19 days until I move....weird feeling.  I've been here eight years and now that I'm so close to the point of leaving, I kind of have this desperate, wild-eyed want to stay here and pitch a big tantrum..."No! I don't wanna go!  I'm not going!"   Even though I will have friends and family close, it's going to be very hard to uproot and start all over again.  Not to mention, all personal drama aside, this area is just beautiful...it can be downright enchanting, really, when it's sunset and you're the only person on the beach for at least a mile and suddenly, a dozen sailboats burst out of the marina for their evening regatta, their bright white sails crisp against the burnt orange and pink sky and mirrored gray-blue of the water....it's just achingly gorgeous.  Something in me resonates with beauty, with quirky, cobblestoned streets and centuries-old bookstores cut into niches just blocks from a harbor, and many southern towns (the ones inland, anyway) don't exactly have aesthetics very high on the priority list.  It's entirely selfish and weird and insane to be inwardly pouting that I'm moving to a place that's not as pretty as the one I'm leaving...right?

Anyway, I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't "it"...this dry-walled apartment won't be my permanent home, it's just a stepping stone until I land a great job (or write that bestseller) and can afford a home with a gigantic yard for my messy, untamed garden beds overflowing with veggies and flowers and a quaint little town nearby where I can buy flowers from a old woman with a dog in her shop, have a conversation with an actual bookstore owner, and have coffee in a delicious-smelling, brick-walled independent coffee house (these places do exist, you know!  Boone, NC, downtown Norfolk by the water, Williamsburg...).  Until then, I gotta suck it up and do the apartment thing and focus on nailing down that great job.  So....hi-ho, hi-ho, it's back to Monster I go..and Indeed and Jobs.com, hi-ho, hi-ho!

Me

Just to help you navigate the blog: I'm in the process of going through a separation, so one of my pages is pretty much entirely dedicated to that....that page is labeled "Journey".  I have another page dedicated to my random political/religious rants, so if you're curious, head over to "The Mire".  I am working on my actual writing-writing, so whatever pieces of writing, from essay to short story to poetry, will be under "The Craft", and all else will be thrown in, naturally, "Misc".

When filling out online profiles, it's easy to try and squish ourselves into a box.  But I (and probably you, if you're honest) don't fit!

I'm thirty, and I'm a mom...it took me a while to figure that out and get the hang of it, but if I do say so myself, I'm doing pretty well now!  My kids are currently 7, 5, and 4 (boy, girl, boy), and they're pretty awesome so if I can take credit for any of that, I will. *smile.

I'm also a writer with fairly atrocious grammar, so I am working on that.  I love to write and do it very often, but usually my craft is wasted on  way-too-long Facebook rants and such. I'm in the process of redirecting that enthusiasm to actual pieces of writing, not just diatribes that will get blocked from others' news feeds.

I'm also a good, maybe great, cook, and a novice gardener.  I've had pretty awesome success with all the gardens I've had with a marginal effort of buying/composting good soil, and then just dumping the seeds in, watering, and waiting.  I don't get a lot into the "scientific" names for things and what nitrogen level is in the soil...if the plants don't do well, I plant seeds of other plants that are going to flourish in that soil.  I look forward to honing this craft in the future, however, and actually become what I may call a "real" gardener.

I like all things vintage and old-worldly.  I love music that harkens backs to another day, as well as listening to "A Prairie Home Companion" (and anything else involving Garrison Keillor) and most of everything else on NPR (the local NPR station is stored at #1 on my car's radio auto-tune buttons).  I've been told many times I have an "old soul", and I take it as a compliment!  I like making things myself, from crocheting to sewing to bread and homemade pumpkin butter.

Mid-century design is where my furniture niche lies, and I do own a 1954 Kroehler sofa that has beautiful lines....our dog chewed up the original upholstery, but I reupholstered in a plain beige canvas and that works for me for now. The sofa is the first of a "sectional" variety, but isn't curved or L-shaped...it's basically a normal, armless sofa, but cut in half. My favorite, however, is a glazed ceramic lamp (store estimated it to be from around 1955 but has no manufacturer's marks).  The lamp body is of a sitting Indian man with the original stitched drum lap shade....gahhhh, I love it. I looked for original Eames chairs but didn't have a thousand bucks to plop down on them, so I got replicas instead....works for me!  I got lucky with thrift store finds of original Lane tables, awesome period curtain panels

I also like repurposed/recycled anything.  I made pallet gardens and some outdoor pallet furniture with some free pallets. I like doing woodwork and making things, although I may not be terrifically good at it.  I basically hate throwing anything away, so if I can use to make something that's what I'm going to do.

Basically, when it all boils down, I'm an average woman trying to make an extraordinary life for herself.  I'm an activist, an organizer, a community leader, and a visionary- I want to see a better world for my children when they're adults, so whatever I can do to influence those forces of change, I will.  Stay tuned for stories of our escapades!

Day Seventeen...Getting My Head Right...

Today has been such an annoying day, and I really only have myself to blame.  So tremendously hot, so very little got done around the house as far as packing...just basic maintenance, cooking, and laundry.  So I had too much time to think, remember, ruminate, and it wasn't very pretty.

First of all, had a Facebook brush with a former friend that reignited a lot of angry, bad feelings about that whole set of friends.  I have tried to avoid all contact in order to avoid feelings like these, but my settings are still set to "friends of friends", and since we do still have a couple of mutual friends, sometimes their "stuff" flits across my news feed, completely uninvited.

Two years ago, when Logan and I separated the first time, I was devastated and it was a lot more unexpected for me and with a lot more hurtful things going on between us.  At the time, I relied heavily on my friends and told them everything, which, of course, they used as ammo later on towards Logan.  They all helped me move into a little rental house and were very supportive for the first few months...and then, when it became apparent that I a) wasn't going to refuse Logan access to his kids or make his life a living hell and b) we were working on our relationship together, including positive co-parenting, they all started to get huffy and grew distant.  One in particular, my "best friend" of three years, moved to Spain when her husband was stationed there, and, at the same time, I began my first job in two years (after being a stay-at-home mom).  Due to the time difference, when she would call me to chat, I was at work and couldn't answer, and when I tried to call her back, it was past dinnertime in Spain and she was getting her kids in bed and going to bed herself.  Next thing I knew, I was deleted from her friends list on Facebook, after a nasty post about "Never know who your friends are until you move."  I was horrified, shocked, and extremely hurt.  Just because I couldn't gab on the phone with her I was cut off??  I suspected it was more than that, and more about giving my marriage another try, letting Logan be a big part of the kids' lives, and her feeling upset about that in some way (??).

Shortly after, many of our mutual friends went the same way...stopped speaking to me, had nothing but negative things to say about Logan, and finally all contact dwindled off and I was deleted from all their friends lists.  I caught snippets of negative conversations either vaguely referring to me or blatantly talking about me, and I tried really hard to get past it.

Yes, I did give my husband and my marriage another chance.  Yes, it was extraordinarily hard.  Yes, I did not take the advice of some of my friends.  Yes, I acknowledge all of this, and I also acknowledge that they were my decisions to make about my life and the life of my kids, not theirs.  Mind you, I knew tons of dirty dirt on their relationships and I didn't judge them for staying together or handling their marriage in their own way.  It was a slap in the face that they all felt that they could dictate my life and would turn their backs if I didn't heed their advice.

So I had pretty much gotten past all of that....like I said, it still comes up when I see one of their names or faces flicker by in the web stream, but I can usually brush it off.  But recently, there's been a lot of that going around....friends, well, so-called "friends" looking at my situation from the outside in and judging what I'm doing, judging how I've handled everything over the past few months, and I've gotten completely and utterly shunned and ignored by...oh, I'd say 90% of the people I've met and called "friends" in Hampton  Roads.

I have never been a "woe is me" person who constantly begs for "prayer requests" in an attempt to garner interest/sympathy/attention to my issues.  Maybe I do need to learn to do that and to be more vocal about what I'm going through, but it's never been something I'm comfortable with.  But to all of you "better than thous" who have passed through my life recently, here's the skinny:

My husband has a disability rating of over 50% from the VA for his mental issues.  He was on three deployments, back to back, and had an extraordinarily difficult time coping with it.  He's gone through phases of being silent, passive aggressive, blatantly aggressive, and borderline philandering.  He is a good person who has got to figure out how to deal with his crap, bottom line. I've chosen to exit that cycle and I hope he can continue figuring it out.  He's still going to be a big part of my life...DUH, he's my children's FATHER. 

My husband's mother is a functioning alcoholic who is bipolar and manic depressive.  She is on Social Security but her money frequently runs out before the end of the month and has had to rely on us.  She's also had months where she spent all her money and didn't pay her rent and/or bills, so we had to cover them...to the tune of probably over ten thousand dollars in the past couple of years.  She can also be a good person, but has been accustomed to others taking care of her and bailing her out, so that's where she has become comfortable and now expects such treatment.  During each one of Logan's deployments, I was alone with three kids and had to care for his mother.  Similarly, I frequently had to deal with her even if he was home and couldn't do it.

Logan has been unemployed for the past year.  We're living on less than one-third the budget we were two years ago.  If it weren't for having our cars paid off and owning them outright, we may have had to declare bankruptcy.  If I didn't make it to some party or fundraiser or gathering, it's because (a) I literally didn't have gas money to get there or (b) I didn't have childcare or (c) I didn't have a dime to spare...I obviously can't go to dinner or an event if I can't even purchase a soda while there.  If you couldn't understand that, or you took it personally, or you assumed I was a "flake" without asking me what was going on, then that's your fault.  I'm not going to broadcast such personal details in public, and if you're that concerned about me not being present, maybe you should have asked instead of assuming.

My first husband died in a car wreck and his family got visitation rights with Grayson.  I place that visitation schedule above all else...if it comes down to me taking my son to his visitation with his grandparents or to some event, I'm going the family route.  Again, if you can't comprehend that, that's your problem.

There have been many times that for weeks, sometimes months on end, I was the only caregiver for my children.  We've had two horrific experiences with childcare in Hampton Roads....one in which, upon arriving to pick the kids up, Grayson had a bloody nose and the creeps had cut a portion of Callie's hair and tried to hide and keep her baby blanket (??).  And yes, police were called and charges pressed.  The other seemed to be going fine at first, but the Callie confided that the babysitter was kicking her when she wouldn't go potty on "schedule" and forcing them to sit, eat, and sleep on the floor and not allowing her to touch her furniture. Again, officials were called and an investigation conducted which resulted in this woman revoking any rights to care for children.  These were both women who came highly referred, so it wasn't just a random stranger.  So obviously, after those incidents, I stopped allowing others to care for my children except my personal friends...and that was quite frequently, obviously, a scheduling nightmare.  It ultimately boiled down to only Logan and I watching the kids.


So, now that I've put all that out there, EXCUSE ME if somehow I didn't live up to YOUR expectation of being Superwoman or your personal errand girl.  Excuse me if I've had to put off other obligations to care for my family.  And excuse me that while you're dining at one of the most expensive restaurants in this area and talking down about me and others like me, we're sitting at home eating eggs for dinner and convincing the kids it's "fun!" to have breakfast for dinner, and not just because we don't have anything else until we get paid the next day.  I contributed hundreds of hours in volunteer service to this community, and at the end of the day, when I have got to move closer to my family and get some sanity back in my life, less than a dozen people are truly there for me??  Thanks a lot.

I've learned valuable lessons, and no, I'm not going to stop volunteering or helping others.  I'm not going to stop having close personal friendships because some of them have ended badly.  But what I do in the future will be done for me.  I volunteer because it makes me feel complete.  I make friends because it makes me happy to see others smile.  Hopefully the fine folks of South Carolina will be more accepting and more understanding of a family-centric lifestyle than people here in Hampton Roads.   I'll keep doing the work I do: that will never stop.  But I will most definitely hold my emotions in check and refrain from getting too emotionally invested in a group, in a community, that is quick to discard those who have done their best, in their own personal circumstances.

Day Sixteen....Friends!

I have the best friends ever. 

I communed with some of the greatest souls in Hampton Roads this evening, and missed the few others that weren't able to make it.

I have been incredibly blessed to have these fine people enter my life, and I hope I have let them know how special they are to me. I am truly rich in friendship!

<3

Day Fifteen...Battle of the Sexes

So today was rough, but much, much less than yesterday, and for different reasons.  He apologized for his initial outburst of temper, we talked through his frustration of feeling that it's "suddenly" over [when to me, it's been over for months, maybe even years], and had a decent day.  Had to take his car to the shop, and he insisted on cutting the grass....which, I don't know, irked me.  He assumed because I was a delicate wittle female that I "couldn't" cut the grass, and the truth is, temps around 100 degrees made me decide not to do it.  I've cut the grass here most of the time we've lived here....I'm quite capable of doing it.  I'm also capable of having a heat stroke, which I don't want to do.

Anyway, other than the minute details like that, it was an OK day.  Hard to talk about the beginning of separate lives, and in his characteristic style, he's now turned to a somewhat joking tone about it, which I guess is better than the alternative.

So all in all, a better day than I was expecting last night....maybe we can be friends after all...

Day Fourteen...Oh, No He Didn't!

Isn't it one of those crummy feelings in life when you already have pretty low expectations of someone and they go and shatter that glass floor? 

I won't go into details...it sucks, all the way around.  I'm pissed, even when I should just let it roll off (and I will, but for the moment, it's truly a slap in the face).  I will say that actions like these just go and confirm again and again that I'm doing the right thing, as hard as that thing is to do while I'm in the thick of doing it.

A word to the wise for my younger, unattached female friends: a pretty face rarely makes a pretty man.  It's cliche, I know, but you make sure the character of your potential beau is up to your standards....or you will spend years regretting it.

Tonight, I could let this crawl under my skin and fester, but I'm not...I'm gonna drink some lemonade, find a great stand-up on Netflix, and laugh my way to sleep....because I deserve it.  That cloud of negativity and drama can find someone else to hover over....this woman is done.

Day Thirteen...Anxiety, Separation of His and Hers...

So I'd already been packing our stuff separately, but today, as I packed a big box with his framed Navy documents, dozens of video games and wrestling DVD's, I thought about how, at least on the surface, it's easy to reduce people to their possessions.  My boxes are full of books on every topic from politics to religion, healthy meals for kids, fun ideas for toddlers, feminist thought, philosophical theory, and random novels, crafting and sewing supplies, organizational/office items, and tons of packs of cards (I love stationary)....basically, there was no item where I wondered, "Is this his or is it mine?"   I think that's telling...maybe I'm wrong, or reaching, or reading too much into it, but I'd think that a married couple would have at least some of the same interests leading to mutual ownership of certain things, like books.  Not the case.

Anyway, he's coming into town tomorrow to get his things, wrap up his business here, and drive his car out to Kansas with Prince and Princess (two of our dogs).  We're sitting down together to tell the kids officially, although I'm sure they've surmised about as much as young children can with him already having been gone for seven weeks without explanation.  I am hoping and praying that it will be a smooth five days with no major blow-ups or arguments, and that we can get the papers signed and certified as quickly as possible so neither he or I have to drive back to VA anytime soon.

Still majorly stressed about finances and getting a job as soon as possible after moving.  Child support is a dubious wish at this point, so until he gets a job, I've got to find a way to make ends meet.  I don't doubt I can do it, but it's going to be tight for a while.

Now for some quality snuggle time- Callie is sleeping and curling up next to my arm, so my snuggle duties await.  Here's to lots of rest for a smooth day tomorrow!

Day Twelve....Baking Soda and Vinegar Gets It All Out...

So today I dragged myself from my bedroom (the temperatures were permitting, which helped), and  forced myself to scrub down the two bathrooms.  A big bucket full of hot water and a splash of bleach, baking soda, and white vinegar works wonders.  Michael even pitched in and cleaned the whole kitchen, which was a huge help!

Pretty slow day otherwise....I'm so busy trying to keep the kids entertained while cleaning and packing...I definitely continually develop a growing respect for their teachers who have to keep the attention of twenty-something young kids all day long!  Callie and John are constantly bickering...if one is playing with a ball, the other wants to play with it.  Once the other drops the ball and swings on the hammock, the other wants to swing on the hammock and so will shove the other out.....ugh.  It's getting SO irritating.  They are literally at the point of brawling, and I'm over it.

Maybe tomorrow we'll drive up to the Chrysler, walk around Ghent, swing by Borjo and get a chai milkshake and just get out of the house for a while...maybe that will diffuse the tension.  Right now I'm just feeling completely and utterly emotionally drained, so perhaps it will do me just as much good as it will do the kids.

Day Eleven...Fighting Tears, Depression...

This has been a horrific day...miserably hot and brutally emotional.  Logan and I had a good talk, which...while it was nice that we weren't fighting, it was upsetting to me for the finality of things and watching the concrete settle on our separation and impending divorce.  We both know it's the correct and healthy thing to do, but it hurts nonetheless.  At several points today, I really had to fight the tears, and a couple of times I lost.

I also had to go to the grocery store, which was a nearly-traumatic experience in and of itself (I had forgotten it was the first of the month, and I typically avoid groceries like the plague on the first).  Wall-to-wall people, short tempers everywhere, and standing in line for half an hour made the perfect recipe for an even more sour mood.  So I figured I would treat myself and the kids to a Frosty from Wendy's to cool us down and hopefully cheer me up.

Since we only have A/C in one room at home, Wendy's was like sitting in an icebox......which, of course, was absolutely lovely.  I was still fighting tears after ordering the ice cream when I saw a man come in the side door out of the corner of my eye.  He was young, maybe 18-20, filthy dirty, and sunburned a deep red.  When he shifted his backpack, his shirt exposed a stark tan line around his neck.  He pulled out some crumpled ones and change and ordered himself lunch.

I immediately felt like the biggest, most self-centered brat on the planet.  Here I was wading through my lake of depression and self-absorption while people like this were forced outdoors in 100+ degree weather with only the possessions on their back.  Who would have bigger reason to cry?

Due to a freeze on my financial accounts (I purchased something online, and since I used a check to pay because my debit card expired, my bank thought it was "fraud", God love 'em, and froze my accounts....just, ya know, icing on the cake right now),  all I had for cash that day was a hundred bucks. I had spent ninety on groceries, five on the Frosty's, and I had one five dollar bill left in my wallet.  No singles, little change. 

I stopped the young man as he was filling up his drink for the second time and asked if he was homeless and when he turned around, I felt the wind leave my lungs.  I'll have to check in, oh, about 14 years, but this boy looked exactly like my John if he were 18, tanned, and dirty.  Same snub nose, same blue eyes, same wide forehead, same row of small, even teeth, same dirty blonde hair...it was shocking.  He looked at the floor when he said yes, and looked shocked when I gave him the five in my wallet....and I wish I had more to give him.

When I was driving home, I saw him a few blocks down, drinking from his Wendy's cup and crossing a four-lane road heading towards Military Highway.  Sweat was already beading again on his forehead.  I almost turned the car around and brought him home- we don't have A/C in the whole house, but he could have taken a cool shower, I could have washed his clothes and given him a sandwich and given him a ride to a shelter or at least one of those "cooling stations" they've opened up.  But my fear of what society has told me he might do made force my eyes forward and keep driving.  I drove away from someone's son and left him in sweltering heat, and now the guilt is just poured on top of the rest of my misery like a fat dallop of gravy, smothering me.

I'm making the kids dinner soon, and I'll be ready to turn in and press the reset button and hope tomorrow dawns cooler, more manageable, and with another chance to do the right thing.  For tonight...I wallow.

Day Ten....Car Running...

So about the greatest achievement of my day was getting my car running!  My awesome friend Chris gave me a ride to Advance Auto, where they had to charge my totally dead battery for FOUR HOURS, but when I put it back in the car, she started right up!

Yay for the good things!

Other than that, another slow day of minimal packing and avoiding too much exposure to the heat...and another dark and stormy night (which would make an excellent opener for a retro murder mystery).  Looking forward to a break in temperatures tomorrow, as well as getting groceries and satisfying this Oreo craving I've had for a few days now!

Oh, yeah, and I lost another seven pounds.  There's that. :)